This picture is one of nine that Mark Rothko created for a restaurant called the Four Seasons Restaurant in the Seagram Building, New York. He spent about 8 months creating all the work, and when he finished, Rothko decided that the paintings (which are massive by the way) didn’t suit the restaurant so he kept them. He wanted the paintings to be seen in a place where you could think quietly and not be distracted by noise (and food!). These paintings are still known as the Seagram Murals.

You can see the paintings at Tate Modern until February 1 2009.

What do you think happened when Rothko told the restaurant he was keeping the paintings? What do you think the letter said? How do you think the owners of the restaurant felt? Where would be a better place for the paintings?

72 stories about “Mark Rothko, Black on Maroon, 1958”

Frankie opened the windows. it was a dark, moonlit night. he could see all the people moving about. In his street, he saw a light go on in one of the windows (pictured above). Then, a figure was in view behind the windows. The figure just disappeared, just like that!

It was 12:00 noon and John and his friend Ben were playing on Saturday afternoon and out of nowhere Ben spotted an airplane FALLING from the sky!!!!!!!!!!!! Then Ben said “Black on Maroon!” and then John said”huh?” but before Ben could say anything two things happened. First, the sky turned pitch black and then John screamed #$%@#$^@#$! John said, “the sky is falling… the sky is falling”! Then it was light again for a few seconds, but it soon turned black again. This time there was two light window shaped rectangles standing before them…

This is the story of a mans dream. His life full of dissappointment and heartbreak. All he wanted was for the world to be a peaceful place. He wished that war would stop and the famine and pourness in the 3rd World. He Felt Responsible for the famine. So he painted pictures using only natural resources that is the reason for the colours. He wanted the world to be happy but he couldnt do it on his own. The picture is of a Pause Button He wanted To pause time so that before it was to late he had Made the world a better place. So for now he believes that the world is on hold.

This was an acidental picture because Mark Rothko had been asked 2 paint an amazing picture but he didnt know what 2 do,and a paint collector was coming round in half an hour .He was thinking really hard about what he should do, when the door bell rang it gave him such a fright that he spilt paint all over the canvas and the art guy thought it wqas great

El are you there.There was no reply spark looked up
no no no. She was standing infront of the WALL OFSTEELthe only suvineer of the plauge and the only thing left that still caried it.It was obvios what happend to El and all the other agents that tried to solve the mystery of THE WALL OF STEEL
they caught black death and died.

I knew I wouldnt escape no one could my only hope was to call code red get the other agents out and give up myself so the world could be safe.I got out my phone and dielled 5668009 the number of head quaters.I told clide code red to sacrrofice me ,rebuild the walls and get other agents out.A sudden surge of pain went down my back my heart semed to stop beeting and I knew I was dying.It was the end of my days sudenly I toppeld over dead

I was happy with myself i did it again I saved evyone and they didnt know.

there once live a very old man at the bottom of head eld high street. one day put on his tv and pressed pause when he needed the toilet but whern he came bac khe discovered the symbol on the screen.
later that a frternoon he got out his paints and painted this wonderful picture
he named it BLACK ON MAROON!!!
at the botttom he signed MARK ROTHKO

There was once a dark world.
No one ever saw the dark world..until today.
A man was walking home at night.
It was a very very dark night.
It was so dark that he couldn’t see anything except black.
Then he saw brown then black again.
He took a step forward,a step forward into the dark world.
Suddenly his whole body started to change.
His clothes turned black and his body turned brown.
That was not the only thing that had changed.
The man was a kind man until he stepped into the dark world.
Now he was impatient and angry.
“Arrgh!” he yelled,
Then he started to dance.
He couldn’t help it, his body was moving by it self.
Someone was controlling him.
The dance was a evil dance.
It made them be evil for ever.
As the man started to dance he yelled
“Black on Maroon!”

It was black. Just black. I was alone in a forest surrounded by black. Then I saw a faint light coming closer and closer towards me. The light shined on the trees so I could see their colour. It was mainly brown, but with a bit of red. I think this is what they call maroon. The light came closer and shone brightly in my eyes. It was starting to blind me. Everything I saw started to blurr together. The trees were brought together and became two wobbly lines. They reminded me of the pause button on my DVD player. Then the light went out but my vision has stayed the same every since. Everywhere I look I see two maroon lines with the darkness closing in.
I’ve never found out what the light was, and I expect I never will. What I do know is that it has changed my life forever.

She ran down every corridor. There was no escape. The dark, cold presence loomed ever closer behind her. Long fingers danced just by her left shoulder, lightly stroking, teasing, mocking. Up ahead, there was another corner. She permitted herself a sigh of relief as she threw herself round it , then….. stopped. It was a dead end. She could now feel cold breath on her shoulder as her pursuer drew ever closer. She dreaded every moment as she hurtled towards the windows that gave a glimpse,of the dull maroon sky. Then, a cold punch in her back. Her vision blurred until all she could see the windows ahead, maroon on black, or black on maroon? Gradually, the maroon faded away and she was left in the pure dark world, of black!

A man came inside a restaurant lonely and poor. The worker of the the restaurant came up to him and said. ‘Dear me you are a man with a history’ sat him at a table and said. ‘Here you are eat as much as you want.’ The man ate his dish and walked away down the street and never to be seen again but the last words he said was ‘Thank you, you are a true a man with great kindness and with that you are blessed.’

One day, Emma was walking home from town. It was only about 8:00, but as it was winter, it was practicly pitch black. All she could see was the outlines of the buildings ahead, but she saw one buiding that she had never seen before…
She could see behind the glass door mail pilling up. And the window upstairs was going on, then off, then on, then off. There was a siloette in the window of a person holding an object. ”Why would somebody live in a house, not bother to get thier own mail, then stand in the window holding an object while turning a light on and off again and again?” She wondered to herself. Then she got scared. Maybe it was a ghost? Maybe they were holding a knife? They could be an old mad person living there.
She started to run home. She ran and ran and ran and didn’t look back and she didn’t stop until she was gasping for breath.
She looked behind back at the house. Had she imagined it all? Because all she could see was a dark, black empty window.
But then she noticed. The glass in the window had smashed. The person had got out…

A young girl named Sasha creeked open the boarded up door only to see a black silouete staring back at her. She screamed in fright and ran. The figure was following her, she tripped and woke up in a dark black cave. The only way out was a black door but where would it leed? Will she do it?

Black on maroon. There once was a little girl. She hated war and wanted to stop it. She tried to create peace but no-one would listen. One day she had a dream where she could start the world over so she took everything out of the world and it turned black. The little girl was scared. She had changed the world forever and she started to cry. The tears poured off her face and onto the world and as they landed they formed two marron lines. Black on maroon.

The shadow moved silently across the classroom floor. Un-noticed by the dim light of the room, and un harmed by the pale moonbeams shining through each crack of the blinds. Stealthily, It walked out of the door, in the blackness. The dark marroon evening light shone through the great thick iron bars of the window, making the dull atmosphere even duller. There was only a single figure in the play-ground. The shadow made it’s move. It was running, running away from the fear. The figure in the play-ground suddenly felt cold, a shiver up their spine. The figure moved backwards….into the dark and the shadow appeared. It’s gleaming outline pictured by the street lamps, and it closed in. For a minute, all the child could see was their own fear…then it all went black. It faded to morning, and the child felt a sensation beating on them like heavy wood. They woke up. The light seemed brighter, and there were children in the play-ground, playing? No….freezing….fading, dissolving……The child called out….and nothing happened. And still, the shadow was there, laughing, planning it’s attack on the next victim. One last scream, and the child was nothingness, the shadow was a mastermind, the most unlikely suspect….Treading upon dust. The shadow walked away, pleased with it’s efforts, then vaished into the night air.

It was 1am on a Saturday night and all was silent but suddenly the alarms started ringing in the art gallery. The next morning it was in the news that two priceless paintings had been stolen and that the police were looking everywhere. Still the police are searching 10 years later and we cannot do anything but wait, and wait.

“The window. Just across the street. Keep going. You can do it.” I wispered to myself as I crawled along the thin wire that would help me escape.
Footsteps! My heart thudded against my ribcage. Who is it? What are they doing? Questions tumbled through my head.
And then I was falling!
Falling!
As I fell I saw the face of the one person I hoped would never set eyes on me again. And then a searing pain as I hit the pavement bellow. Then… nothing!

Two tall buildings stood tall and proud on the horizon. The sky was jet black and an approaching storm cast the buildings an odd shade of purple. Yet the girl kept on running towards the horizon. The only sign of life in an arid dessert.

The artist was finally done. He had spent months doing all these paintings for a building he had not yet seen inside. He thought a nice purple would suit it and so all of his massive painings had a shade of purple as their main colour.
As the artist stood in the lift of the Seagram Building, his thought wandered. ‘What if they don’t like my paintings?’ he asked himself but he had come to the floor before he could answer. The doors opened to a huge cacophony of sound and noise. Crashing, loud talking, glasses tinkling, people rushing by. The head waiter approached and smiled, ‘May I help you, Sir?’
Suddenly, the artist felt himself backing up into the lift…….’No, this is all wrong! My work needs to be seen in a quiet tranquil place! This will never do!’ The doors closed and he was never seen again in the building.
‘B

“Katie wait up!” yelled Maddie from behind. The two friends were running in the woods in autumn, the sun bursting with color filling the world with life. Its vivid colors of red, orange, and yellow reflected off the lake and sparkled. The wind was slightly blowing, sending a chill to sweep across your face. The autumn leaves fell from above, as the wind sent them in all directions, and the bare remaining of the trees where the once green leaves were. Katie looked back to Maddie, and soon Maddie caught up. Maddie breathed deeply from running in the cold chill of fall and could see her breath. Then suddenly, Katie stopped, dumbfounded by what was ahead. ” What,” Maddie said looking at Katie’s astonished expression. The sun was drowned out by the still darkness inside the window,m and everything felt lonely, depressing and sad….just darkness. No color, no life, nothing…just black. ‘Black’ the word rattled inside the two friends heads, they just stood there staring into the window as if it were a bottomless pit of nothing, maybe evil, but from what they could see nothing. the black surrounded them, and the two disappeared. The next morning the police filed a report for the two missing children, then began to investigate the window, the next morning the police officer was reported missing. The window of sadness, of evil and darkness, of no feeling and no light….no life..nothing.

It was 1:00am in the morning the sky was coal black.A strange figer was on the road walking slowly and steady.He made not a sound.He wore a black waterproof coat on.I woke up in fear.
“Was it a dream. Tell me…”

many moons ago ther was a lady called delia moonston and she was captured and put in a stony tower for all eternity. once when the witch came on her annual visit she brought some street paint to paint the girl. the witch was so stupid and she didnt know that delia could draw so delia nicked the street paint off the witch and delia painted the wall of two maroon sticks which meant in belgium help me cos ive been caught by a witch. and by chance a belgium prince was coming along that path and saw the spray paint and then killed the witch and saved delia and they became the most well known street artist of the world but they couldnt understand eachother so they used .art to talk and then they lived happily eva after until they died.

Emily pushed open the white washed window it creaked as she opened it and some of the build up of dust a brown colour now fell down to the overgrown garden below.She peered out of the window and beyond the red slate rooves and charcoal black chimneys blowing out smoke, saw a black horizon with grey rectangular clouds.Suddenly she heard a noise, a shriek coming out of the black

I was running from bad man.It was too dark.I saw him again he had a knife.He cut my stomach.I though I was dead.I just saw darkness_blackness.When I opened my eyes I was in the hospital.I cant believe it.Im still alive.Its a miracle.

THE DOORS
i stood in front of the two brown doors ahead of me. my head was saying run yet, my heart wanted to enter. the more i looked at the doors the more sinister,deppressing and unwelcomeing they became. allas curriosity got the better of me and i shuffled further towards the doors. i looked at them again, if i went through that means thet there is no turning back, i will never see anyone from school again or even my own…family. but i have to pay the price, i have done something terribly wrong and this is the only way to fix it. i took one deep brath and stepped into the forbidden darkness…

read nexts weeks story wich i will submit on a wednesday to find what happens next

a girl was walking along a path one day then all of a sudden it happend !
every night she turnes to a shadow ,
following evey tiny speck of dust!
then one night it happend ,
she turned to a shadow she was a of a boy who was very upset.
she controlled his movements and made him escape from being so dark and lonely.
she had finely done something good ecsept it was the best thing she had ever done in her intier life.

Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click,Click. This was the sound that was coming closer and closer to Mary as she walked towards the rothko gallery in the dark. The sound then got suddenly louder as she reached the gallery and when she arrived…

There was a giant Film going on and all sorts of art thieves were there.
But the cause of the clicking sound was a big, heavy and freaky looking thief who was constantly pressing Mark Rothko’s painting of ‘black on maroon’.Mary wondered if he really was stupid enough to think that the £4,000 worth painting by the famous Rothko, was a big pause button.
Even so Mary ran for the security gaurds and all the thives were put in prison and luckily the painting was unharmed.

It was 12:00 noon and John and his friend Ben were playing on Saturday afternoon and out of nowhere Ben spotted an airplane FALLING from the sky!!!!!!!!!!!! Then Ben said “Black on Maroon!” and then John said”huh?” but before Ben could say anything two things happened. First, the sky turned pitch black and then John screamed #$%@#$^@#$! John said, “the sky is falling… the sky is falling”! Then it was light again for a few seconds, but it soon turned black again. This time there was two light window shaped rectangles standing before them…

Once a hunter was looking for food. And he fell down a hole and broke his leg.His friend put down some rope.And help him get up.An then got him to safety.The frined of the hurt man saw a deer in the distant.So he hid in the bushes an shot the deer.

Mark Rothko sat there thinking what to write next.He put his quill in the ink well and put it on his parchment,and started writing:
Dear sir,
I am afraid I cannot let you buy these paintings,for I think they are paintings which do not suit your resturent in one way.I am very sorry to disapiont you
please replie
your scincerly
Mark Rothko

Mark Rothko looked down at his letter. ” Well” he thought “It may not be the best letter Ive ever wrote but it will have to do”. He carefully rolled up the parchment
and sealed it.

A few days later Mark Rothko recived his replie. It said:

Dear Mr Rothko
I am terribly dissapointed.But as you know live is not always fair.
I have a little requst to make;could you perhaps do a nother painting that suits my
resturant.it is only a mere idea of course so you dont have to do it but i will be ever so glad if you could.
your scincerly
Mr Kuzuma

Our lives are over! We’re trapped and we’ll never find what one of these purple doors lead us back. Jazmin has her mind set on the second door but I am not so sure about even nubers. I never have been!
“1!” I say “1”. she egnores me completley and opes door two. We are pushed into a black land with purple marshes and diches.
“I have been here before!” says Jazmin. “I realy have!”
I eagerly ask her “Where are we then?”
“Black on Maroon.”

Hannah was outside with her friend, Maggie. They were riding on skateboards and scooters. Then the sky turned maroon color. Black showed up. When they looked up, they fainted. The sky somehow raised them up into the clouds. They turned into clouds. They were never seen again, only when there is black on maroon.

A pause button on a remote. waiting 2 b pressed in the middle of a really exciting film it cant cope with the drama its 2 much. theres the remote on the arm of the chair shakin with the ………………………………………………….. ohhhhhh ahhhhhhh!! the humans ar laughin, theres nufin 2 laugh about thow i can feal the urge to press pause i cant help my self i just have to dddddddddddddone few wot a relief!!!!!!!!!!

All was silent. The man sat in the darkened room, bare exept for a single painting. A painting that showed, well what did it show? The mans fears, his nightmares, his enemies? Or maybe his hopes his dreams, his asperations? None but the man who painted it knew, who was watching silently the painting, just watching, never moving, just watching. Some said that it would drive him to madness, insanity, but he didn’t care. He just sat there,
just watching,
never moving,
just watching…

is it a door a door entering a universe with nothing inside with no atmosphere? no it is a portal a portal entering a world, a world with no heart a world englufed with danger , a world engulfed with carbon emmision a world that is dying a world that is in danger, in danger from polution , a world that is inhabitable by living things ,a world that is cold a world that needs to be helped and we are that help we can reduce the amount of carbon emmisions being exerted into the air, the air that we breathe the world that we live on ,a world that we can stop from dying a word called…Earth

there was a man who sold of dvd players ileagley and aliens came and done a crop circle in his backgarden of a pause sign, then the next day he stayed out that night in his bakgarden and that night he got killed by the aliens lol ownd haha

Black was the night that the shadow streaked through. No pale moon showed his face. The clouds were like a crowd of bullies, forcing the moon the back of the sky. The twisted body lay still upon the rocky playground surface, as the children had left it, as they departed from the grim building before the quiet floor. During the night, everything was still. But the shadows darted from each corner, massing against the cloaked floor. Crackles from the leaves wished in the air, as thick as a rubber swimming pool. Elegantly, the shadows leapt upon the tree tops, and other, zooming above the sleeping birds, the quiet town and the tired adults.
No sound could be heard from the houses below. Deftly, the shadows flitted from one star to another, pleading to reach their goal. Suddenly, the path ahead was brown. Treading on dust, the blue lights of the street lamps blew their light onto the shadows, desperate to eliminate the deathly spirits. Never will you defeat, the thoughts echoed upon the soft and dreaming world. Oblivious to the lights, the shadows snigger, the lights recoil, and switch themselves off again, still as before. Just as the clouds begin to lighten, the shadows run to hide for the next night. The pale moon shines through and the sun appears for its morning shift, Goodbye moon, it booms. As the alarm clocks ring, the shadows here the warning bell. Fleeting from the light, they run towards their sanctuary. But, the sun, cunning and crafty against the small minds of dark, shines the rays down on the drifty world as the shifting layers of civilization begin the morning journey. Burnt and harmed, the shadows whip towards darkness. And as afternoon passes, the shadows plan the journey once more.

Big sis and her lil brother sit on the coach as there mother goes out in the rain.
Big sis says do you ever think of the moon. Lil brother says i think of it as a giant maroon. The kids sat and peered out the window as there mother left.

Night falls Big sis and lil bro sit together in there mooble home.
The cows mooed a lot today big sis exclaimed.
lil bro sat closer the ruestruant across the street frightened him.
Both were on the coach staring out the maroon window.
The restruants big letters flickered.
The restruant was usualy maroon but now turning black

life was like a color of maroon every one felt maroon till down came the rain
and the poor small buetiful maroon sipiders fell into some coal.
The sipeders woke to find out the rain has stoped. there buetiful maroon is now pitch black! Sorrow they felt as there buetiful home Maroon is now turning black!

It was 1958, May, and the evening was just around the corner. Mark Rothko’s studio was lit with the dim glow of the setting sun. Mark himself sat out on his balcony, enjoying the view. For soon, he would be on his troublesome journey to the place he feared most: Romania. It isn’t wise of course, to be scared of a country, but when Mark was a young child, he had heard the wolves howling every night and the wind whistling eerily through the trees. But back to the present, for you do not need to know such things, at least not yet, anyway. Mark took a deep breath and stood up.
“Linda, come back…” Mark whispered, leaning over the balcony, which is an incredably dangerous activity that nobody should take part in. “Please,”
Mark sighed and decided to turn in for the night, for he was to travel to Romania tomorrow. Though he tossed and turned all night, he still managed to wake in time to catch the first boat of the day to Romania. Mark had rented a cabin and left his cases on the bunks. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of his late wife, Linda. He shed many a tear these days, but he hoped that after he told her parents the memories would fade to nought. After a rough landing, Mark strode to Linda’s parents’ house. He rapped on the pale green door and waited. There came no reply.
“Kyle? Gina?” He called, remembering Gina’s slight deafness, “Hello?”
” Oh, dear! you won’t get no reply like that, you won’t!” A passing fisherwoman replied, rubbing her forhead, ” Kyle passed on an’ Gina with him- there ain’t no-one left.” The lady continued to walk passed Mark, overcome with emotion.
“Drat!” Mark hissed, scowling up at the perriwinkle blue shutters, whitewashed walls and sloped tile roof. Mark spent that night thinking of Linda under the stars. He took out his paints and painted a black and marroon picture. Dark colours, to match his mood. Linda had died of fever, so had her parents- what about him???

it was the wood she knew it! she ran towards it hopeing beond hope that she was wrong. but when she got in it was just endless black streaching out for miles and miles the forest and dissapeard and so had her house and family with it.

The loner wandered the streets, keeping himself to himself the best he could. He wanted to express his feelings, how he knew he was different to everyone else out there. He adopted the name ‘Mark Rothko’ as it suited his dark and desolate ways and made him feel like a somebody. Not knowing exactly what he was going to paint, Mark opened the black, red and blue. He mixed the red and blue before adding a bit of black to make a satisfying maroon. Canvas, brushes, paint, easel, everything he needed was taken out of his equally dark store cupboard and placed near the window- his favourite place to sit in Linthorpe Manor. Without thinking, he painted a series of canvas paintings, but there was one that expressed his mood the most. He was a simple and dull man so he called his massive piece of artwork ‘Black On Maroon’ before thinking of a place to put them. He knew just the place to place the wonderful pieces of delicate, thoughtful art- St Barnabas Church in Linthorpe, Middlesbrough. Mark devoted himself then to the delicacy of art, and came to the top of the reputation ladder.

One day a man called Mark Rothko went to a resturant, the resturant had modern painting on it’s thick walls it did not suit the resturant so Mark asked the boss to take the paintings to a place where they belong the boss wasnt quite happy but he offered the deal only if Mark would buy some new paintings to suit the resturant. The next day Mark bought the best paintings he could find and when they were hung on the thick walls of the restursnt Mark set of with the old,modern paintings that didnt suit the resturant and took them to a modern museum the museum gave Mark £100 but Mark didnt think he deserved it but the museum didnt take there money back they said “You could need the £100″. The next day Mark bought a house with the £100 he was happy he really did need the £100. The End

The dark was omnipresent and heavy. The dim purple light that lit the screen doors was barely a comfort, and as he stumbeled his way towards them Robert could barely see the stone floor that lay beneeth his feet. What sat behind those doors was unknown to Robert, yet he felt compelled to continue on his journey. The purple haze seemed to pulsate and as it did so a humming filled Robert’s ears, it was both beautiful and terrible. The dull humming blocking the sound of his footsteps and muffling the sound of his breathing. There were shadows on the wall that seemed to dance and in the half light Robert could swear he saw something move to his left. The pulsing lights and humming grew both louder and quicker as he got closer to the screen doors. With one hand outstretched Robert reached the purple light and opened the door.

One night Frank work up with bad worries because it war. It was his mums funeral as well. And it was time for him to deliver news papers. Suddenly he remembered he was in his pyjamas.
Why was war on?
Dad was in the war. No one was looking after me.
So Frank set off . On the way back he past something he had never seen before. It was a museum. He went in side he found a painting called black on Maroon by Mark Rothko.
He touched it and his hand went through. When no one was looking he hopped in to the strange painting. He stayed until war was over. One day he popped his little head out of the painting, there was dad looking at the painting.
We hugged each other and went home.

i cant imagine how dark a big rock could be. i was standing on the top of a huge mountan in the swiss alps and thought about the life of this particular rock. i wondered about its being in this mountain, day for day the same view and almoust same weather. but then again, a stone lives forever, so things arent that bad. perhaps he will turn up as a piece of art in many yeas here at the tate by an unknown artist. im looking foreward.

there were some dors and they are looking for somebody to open them. nobody can because they have not enough imagnation. behind the dors are nothing. the one with enough imagination power will be sucked into the noworld where al is nothing because there is nothing there. the imagnation will fly free forever because thats what it was like in the beginning

I am sorry to have to tell you this but i am unable to give you the paintings that i have prepared for you as i dont think they are suitable for your type of establishment as they are very quiet conserventry pieces of art. Your resturant four seasons does not meet these needs. So therefore you will not be receiving the pieces of art. Please find enclosed an envelope with a refund inside of $4000.
I think these pieces of art really belong in a libary, art gallerey or other quiet area.

I was staring up at the ceiling in the dark. Suddenly two lights went on. I got up from my bed. The light was coming from next door. I must be going mad because no-one had gone in or out of that house, and some people say it’s haunted. I opened my window for a clearer look, and there, staring write back at me was a young girl that looked just like me.

i feel blank, dark, like all the happiness was sucked out of the world but
there was still hope somewhere, it can’t always be dark.

i try flicking the light on in my room, its 1:00 am in the morning.
it flickers, sparks and turns off. i madly , try to flick it on.
but nothing happens. now i apprieciate why some people are scared of the dark.

“PAUSE” yelled Simon. Everybody just Pause. Suddenly, everthing stopped Simon was the only person in the whole of australia moving. Simon thought it was the coolest thing that had ever happened to him before. After a few minutes Simon got sick of it so he started yelling out “PLAY!” Nothing happened, he tried and tried still othing happened…………….
TO BE CONTIUED!!!

Blackness…That’s all Matilda could see. Then out of the darkness she could see two windows. She walked down the alley to it and in the window Matilda could see her reflection. She marvelled at the sight that was before her, she could hardly recognise it. Thestranger in the mirrior had a pale face, framed with mahogony hair. Then she saw another figure in the reflection and she wondered who it was. The stranger was a man, with a light stubble and as he came over she could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath. She just stared at him her eyes widining with fear. Then in a flash she felt pain of black dots forming before her eyes, and her spirit left the earth along with her thoughts and memories.

she combs her hair and stares out the purple windows. wondering when the will gain freedom. away from this house, this country, this lifestyle. her world is suffocating. everyone asks to much of her. she climbs into bed and stares out the purple window.